The bus pulled up to the stop with a soft screech, the door hissing open as Lily stepped down onto the pavement. The air was crisp but warm, with the faint buzz of cicadas humming in the background. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, her knuckles white as she glanced around.
Their new neighborhood was still unfamiliar, the rows of tidy, narrow houses standing shoulder to shoulder like quiet sentinels. Her own home, a modest two-story house with white walls and a red-tiled roof, stood just a short walk from the bus stop. It wasn't big or flashy, but it felt cozy—safe. At least for now.
She let out a shaky breath and looked ahead. The route to school wasn't complicated; her dad had shown her the way on a map over and over again in the past days. But knowing where to go and actually going there were two very different things.
Adjusting her skirt for what felt like the hundredth time, she whispered under her breath, "You can do this."
The closer she got to the school, the more her heart raced.
And then, she saw it.
The gates of Shinsei High School loomed before her, tall and ornate, with the school's name engraved in elegant kanji across the arch above. Beyond the gates, the school grounds stretched out like a small city, bustling with life.
Clusters of students filled the walkway leading to the main building, their chatter mixing with the crunch of gravel underfoot. Some stood in tight groups, laughing and exchanging stories from the summer break. Others strolled leisurely, their uniforms perfectly pressed and their confidence radiating in every step.
Lily stopped a few feet from the gate, her chest tightening.
It was bigger than she had imagined—no, massive. The sprawling campus, the sea of unfamiliar faces, the sheer weight of it all… It made her feel impossibly small.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag as if holding onto it could somehow anchor her to the ground.
"You can do this," she murmured to herself again, her voice barely audible over the noise around her. She took a deep breath, her shoulders trembling slightly, and forced her feet to move forward.
Each step felt heavier than the last as she approached the entrance, weaving through the groups of students who barely noticed her. A few glanced her way—brief, indifferent looks before turning back to their conversations.
She didn't blame them.
A girl with light blonde hair and green eyes stood out in a crowd like this. She could feel it in the way some of them glanced twice, their curiosity fleeting but sharp.
But Lily kept her head down, her gaze fixed on the grand doors of the school building ahead. Her heart pounded like a drum, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.
"Just smile. Be yourself," she whispered, the words more for comfort than confidence.
As she stepped through the gates, a gust of wind swept past her, carrying with it the faint scent of cherry blossoms lingering from the summer. She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she let it out, her chest rising and falling in time with the wave of students flowing toward the entrance.
"Here we go," she said softly, tightening her grip on her bag one last time before stepping into the current.
The first day of a new life.
And no turning back.
┐('～`;)┌
"Don't be nervous. Just take a deep breath and smile," the secretary said, offering Lily a reassuring nod as they walked down the long, polished hallway.
"I'm not nervous," Lily lied, her grip tightening on the strap of her bag. Her palms were clammy, and she was positive that her face was betraying her.
The secretary chuckled softly. "Sure you're not."
Lily swallowed hard as they stopped in front of a closed door with a bold "2-A" sign hanging above it. The muffled sound of a teacher's voice and occasional laughter seeped through the walls, making her stomach churn.
"Here we are," the secretary said, giving her a light pat on the shoulder. "Ready?"
No.
"Yes," Lily squeaked, her voice barely audible.
The secretary smiled and knocked twice on the door before opening it.
The chatter inside the classroom came to an abrupt halt.
"Excuse me, Mr. Yamamoto," the secretary said, stepping inside. "Your new student has arrived."
All eyes turned toward the door.
Lily stood frozen in the doorway, clutching her bag as her heart raced. The teacher, a stern-looking man with short gray hair and sharp eyes, adjusted his glasses and nodded.
"Come in," he said, his voice calm but authoritative.
Lily's legs felt like jelly as she stepped inside, the soft creak of the door closing behind her making her flinch. She followed the secretary to the front of the room, the weight of the stares from her new classmates pressing down on her like a heavy blanket.
"This is Lilian Aikawa," Mr. Yamamoto announced, his tone matter-of-fact. "She's just transferred here from Seattle. Please make her feel welcome."
He gestured toward her, clearly expecting her to speak.
Lily's throat went dry as she turned to face the class. Thirty pairs of eyes stared back at her—some curious, others indifferent, a few whispering behind cupped hands.
"Hi," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Um, my name is Lilian Aikawa, but you can call me Lily. I just moved here, and… I'm excited to get to know all of you."
The room was silent for a moment before a few students murmured softly to each other.
"Seattle?" someone whispered. "She's a foreigner?"
"She's pretty," another voice added, though it was hard to tell if it was meant as a compliment or a jab.
Lily's cheeks burned. She forced herself to stand straighter, clutching her bag tighter to keep her hands from shaking.
"Thank you, Aikawa," Mr. Yamamoto said, cutting through the whispers with a firm nod. "You'll be sitting over there, next to Nakamura."
He gestured toward an empty desk near the middle of the room, where a boy with round glasses and a slightly slouched posture sat. He looked up at her briefly, offering a small, awkward smile before quickly looking away.
The secretary gave Lily an encouraging nod before exiting the classroom.
"Go ahead," Mr. Yamamoto said, motioning for her to take her seat.
Lily nodded, her legs moving stiffly as she made her way to the desk. The whispers started up again as she passed by, some students craning their necks to get a better look at her. She could feel their stares like pins and needles against her skin.
As she slid into her seat, the boy next to her glanced her way again.
"Hi," he whispered nervously.
"I'm Koji Nakamura."
Lily managed a small smile, relieved to hear a friendly voice. "Hi."
"Don't worry," Koji added, leaning in slightly. "They always stare at new students. It'll stop soon… probably."
Lily let out a quiet laugh, her shoulders relaxing a fraction.
"Thanks," she whispered back.
Before she could say more, Mr. Yamamoto clapped his hands, snapping the class's attention back to the front.
"All right, that's enough," he said sharply. "Open your textbooks to page 36."
The room filled with the sound of pages flipping and chairs shifting as the students got back to work.
Lily let out a small breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, her eyes flicking down to the textbook on her desk.
Her first day had officially begun.
The low hum of the ceiling fan barely cut through the silence of the classroom, interrupted only by the occasional scratching of pens against paper and the steady voice of Mr. Yamamoto explaining equations that might as well have been ancient hieroglyphs.
Lily sat rigidly in her seat, her back straight and her hands resting on her notebook. Her pen hovered over the page, poised to write, but her mind was too distracted to focus on the endless stream of numbers and formulas spilling from the front of the room.
Her gaze flickered to Koji, the boy sitting beside her. His pen moved quickly across his notebook, but he wasn't taking notes. From the corner of her eye, Lily could see he was doodling—small, intricate sketches of characters she didn't recognize.
His round glasses occasionally slid down the bridge of his nose, and he pushed them back up with an absentminded motion. Despite his size, there was something unassuming and gentle about him. His soft features and slightly messy hair gave him an air of kindness that eased some of her nerves.
She looked away before he could notice her staring and let her gaze drift across the rest of the classroom.
Everyone else seemed so… composed.
The girl in front of her had her hair tied into a perfect ponytail, the ends curling just slightly as if styled that morning. Her uniform looked like it had been freshly pressed, and her notebook was a masterpiece of color-coded notes and immaculate handwriting.
The boy a few rows over leaned back lazily in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips as he twirled his pen between his fingers like he was in a drama Claire would swoon over. His blazer hung loosely off his shoulders, and he looked effortlessly cool in a way Lily could never imagine being.
Even the quiet ones—the students hunched over their desks, scribbling away—seemed like they belonged here. Like they had all walked out of a K-drama or one of Claire's favorite manga, complete with perfect lighting and flawless outfits.
And then there was Lily.
Her palms were clammy against her notebook, and she quickly wiped them on her skirt under the desk. Her heart thudded in her chest as she forced herself to look down, focusing on the blank page in front of her.
She was acutely aware of how out of place she felt. Her hair didn't have the effortless shine of the girl in the ponytail. Her uniform, while neat, still felt stiff and foreign on her. And no matter how much she tried to push down the unease, it clung to her like a second skin.
Her stomach twisted, and she couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting back to Seattle.
The familiar buzz of her old classroom. The comforting sight of Claire sitting beside her, always ready with a witty comment or a reassuring smile. The way everything there felt predictable, steady, and hers.
Here, everything felt… wrong.
"Stay focused," she whispered to herself, gripping her pen tightly.
She forced her gaze up toward the blackboard, where Mr. Yamamoto continued his explanation. His voice was steady, precise, but Lily struggled to follow the thread of what he was saying. Equations sprawled across the board in neat lines, but the numbers blurred together in her mind.
Her pen finally moved, scratching across the paper as she copied down what was on the board. She wasn't sure if it made any sense, but at least writing gave her hands something to do.
Her grip tightened as she jotted down another equation, her handwriting slightly shaky.
Focus. Just focus.
The minutes stretched on, the weight of the unfamiliar room pressing down on her. The whispers in her mind grew louder, an echo of doubt and homesickness.
But she pressed on.
Even as her chest tightened and her breathing felt shallow, she kept writing, kept her head down. She didn't have Claire or Seattle or anything familiar to hold onto here.
But she had her pen, her notebook, and the quiet determination to make it through the day.
She was so focused on copying the endless equations that she almost didn't notice the small piece of folded paper sliding onto her desk.
She blinked, pausing mid-sentence to glance at the note, her heart skipping a beat. Slowly, she unfolded it, the neat handwriting and small doodle of a smiling face catching her eye.
"Hey, don't stress too much! You're doing great. Also… your hair is really cool. -Koji :)"
Lily felt her chest tighten, but this time it wasn't with anxiety. A soft warmth spread through her as she looked over at Koji. He was scribbling something in his notebook, pretending not to notice her reaction, but there was a slight tilt to his lips—a confident little smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he'd done.
She couldn't help herself. Lily smiled back, small and tentative, but real.
Koji glanced at her from the corner of his eye and, with a grin, gave her a small nod, like they'd just shared a secret.
For the first time that day, her shoulders relaxed.
Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't completely alone.